I love Poetry,but I can’t write it.
I might possibly be able to turn out some third rate crime or love story but lines like;
“The sedge has withered from the lake,
and no birds sing.”
I ask myself why I find prose so much easier?
The answer is, maybe one has to be a melancholy sort of person to write something moving,and I am not one of these.
It would be an explanation as to why Ireland has brought forth so many great writers.
Or maybe one has to be nursing a broken heart.